


No Reflection

by MissCherise



Category: Marilyn Manson (Band)
Genre: Art, Being Lost, Blood, Blood Kink, Character Death, Drama & Romance, F/M, Group Sex, Human Experimentation, Medical Kink, Painting, References to Depression, Romance, Rough Sex, Sex, Torture, Violent Sex, Writer's Block
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-03
Updated: 2019-02-03
Packaged: 2019-10-21 14:42:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,159
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17644742
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissCherise/pseuds/MissCherise
Summary: A writer on the verge of desperation.A singer who has lost the colour of life.They meet, and decide to work together, to find a way out of their problems.They fall in love.But, what could happen if they decide to make their bond their biggest work of art?





	No Reflection

**Author's Note:**

> Hello readers.  
> I'm back to writing after a very long time of hiatus. This work was inspired by many projects I've seen around myself in the last few months. It won't be the usual lovey dovey story, it'll eventually get distorted and scary. I know, I'm a crazy girl. 
> 
> *THIS WORK CONTAINS GRAPHIC DESCRIPTIONS OF VIOLENCE AND SEX, ALONG WITH OTHER THINGS THAT COULD TRIGGER THE READER, READ AT YOUR OWN RISK*
> 
> Story is set in 2014, Manson was 45 years old, he was recording The Pale Emperor

It was raining.  
July 27th 2014, Los Angeles.

Ariel couldn't believe it was raining when she woke up in a tangle of sheets. It had never rained before in the time she had passed in Los Angeles.

Ariel moved to the city of stars as a young, talented writer, who had just published her first book, her first bestseller.

It was March 2013. More than a year passed, and yet she hadn't written the second book everyone was waiting for.  
The new city, along with all the chaos and gossip that lived there had drained Ariel's imagination.  
Ariel was desperate for a new book.

That morning, she was feeling lazy, but she decided to work, or at least try to write something new. But the house seemed to be too full of distractions to work in.  
So she hastily dressed up with a hoodie and sweatpants, and grabbed a pair of sunglasses. Ariel hated to be seen around without makeup even by strangers.

She wandered around under the rain for quite a while before finding an empty cafe that looked nice for working.  
As she got inside the small cafe she noticed the warm red coloured walls, clean and neat tables, some sofa chairs and stools. The place looked nice. 

"Morning miss!" The cashier greeted her with a smile, and Ariel returned it, after ordering a large caramel cappuccino. 

She then stepped to the back of the room and sat down on one of the booths, the leather of the little sofa cold against Ariel's legs.   
As soon as her steaming coffee arrived, she pulled out of her little bag a notebook, full of blank pages that were screaming to be written on. 

Ariel even took out a pen, then, she opened the notebook and stared at the first blank page.   
She stared and stared. But nothing. Nothing came to her mind. Her mind felt as blank as the notebook. 

The idea of trying again later wandered her mind but she soon retracted it.   
It was months that she repeated herself "next day", but every day was the same. No ideas, no stories, no book.   
And no money as well. 

The large amount of money that she earned with her first book was in part gone to pay the Los Angeles house, and the rest of it was being spent everyday for food, daily needs, etc...   
It would have been soon gone totally. Leaving her broke, but not if she wrote a new book.   
But that was the problem.   
How to write it? 

Ariel felt stupid for wondering how a book could be written since she had published a bestseller.   
Never before she couldn't find an idea for a story. Her mind had always been a turmoil of ideas and words. She couldn't yet believe that she had fallen down the dark path of the writer's block.   
She never thought it would have happened to her. 

After a while of self-pitying and complaining Ariel threw her pen on the floor, and she watched as it smashed down on the floor, the cap flying in the opposite direction. 

A man, dressed in a black baggy t-shirt and black jeans, along with a pair of sunglasses; walked into the cafe and noticed that young girl who hastily threw her pen to the ground, looking quite furious. 

The man, whose name is Brian, smiled to himself. She must have been a writer.   
After ordering himself a plain black coffee he walked to the girl's table, who was now back at staring her notebook, and took the pen from the ground. 

"Hello" He simply said, smiling down at her. 

Ariel's head snapped up and she looked at the tall man standing before her. 

"Hi...hmm, you wanna sit here?" She asked, feeling the question as very awkward. 

"Yeah, thank you.. I'm Brian by the way" He sat down with the girl and rubbed his neck. 

"Ariel" She replied with a smile. 

The man in front of her was stunning and misterious, his square jaw and messily painted lips were to drool for. And his sunglasses covered eyes intrigued even more the young writer, she couldn't see his eyes, but not clearly.   
Also, the man remembered her of someone, but yet she couldn't understand who she had before her. 

"Are you a writer?" Brian already knew the answer. He could see it in her face, in her attitude and body movements. It was clear. 

"Yeah, but I'm kind of blocked now, can't write anything. What do you do for a living instead?" 

Brian smiled, showing her his teeth briefly. 

"I'm a singer. Marilyn Manson."

Ariel chuckled, now she understood.   
"I've got a few of records at home, you're damn cool” She laughed, and he soon joined in. 

"So, what is Marilyn Manson doing here?" Ariel asked, looking down at her nails. 

"Wanted a coffee, didn't want a crowded place" 

"You, come here often?" 

"Yeah, kind of. I like it here. What about you? I've never seen you before"

"First time here, wanted to write, but I can't find inspiration. I'm so done" The young woman looked down at her empty notebook, feeling suddenly sad. 

Brian moved a hand over hers, giving her a sympathetic look. He knew what it was like to have a block. Whichever form of art you make. 

"Maybe I could help you..."

"How?" Ariel looked up. 

"Come to dinner with me, at my home. There we can start to think about something..."

Ariel was taken aback by the singer's words, he didn't even know her and yet, he was asking her out for dinner. She couldn't believe Marilyn Manson would ever wanted anything to do with a shitty writer. 

Ariel's jaw fell to the floor.   
“Are you serious?”

“Absolutely. You need help, I don't have anything to do, I can help you…I know this situation is…hmmm...pretty awkward, we don't know each other. But I wanna help, if you'll let me…”

The young girl thought about the offer for a moment. She didn't know him but what did she have to lose? She felt already lost. 

“I accept, thank you…” Ariel blushed and looked down. 

“Write me your address, I'll come to pick you up at 8 o'clock” Brian smiled as she wrote down in a beautiful calligraphy her street address. She handed it to him and silence filled the air. 

“So…I'll see you at 8…” Brian got up, smoothening his shirt. 

“Yes, see you later…” Ariel watched as the singer shyly waved her goodbye and walked out the door. 

She didn't know whether to believe he would come or not, but he seemed sincere, completely different from what she thought Marilyn Manson would be. 

She didn't know what to expect from that evening, yet a good feeling spread through her insides, making her feel like the old times, when she was happy with her life and her career. 

Maybe that meeting could really change the game.


End file.
